


It's Always You, I Always Knew

by fackinglouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fackinglouis/pseuds/fackinglouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis' trying to weigh the pros and cons of writing out satanic curses and possibly carrying through with a damnation to hell in the middle of their local diner when somebody's fingers rudely snap around in front of his face."</p>
<p>Or the one where Louis pines pathetically and miserably for his best friend who is inconveniently taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always You, I Always Knew

Louis drags his finger through the mixed mountain of sugar and salt that he's emptied out onto the plastic, pink table top from various shakers and packets. He's trying to weigh the pros and cons of writing out satanic curses and possibly carrying through with a damnation to hell in the middle of their local diner when somebody's fingers rudely snap around in front of his face.

His eyes flicker up to glare at whoever the fingers belong to and sends his thanks to whatever merciful, mighty being up there let this happen. The sight that he's greeted with is just beautiful, really, no sarcasm at all. Harry's got a long arm slung over that stupid bloke, Ollie, and they're all cuddled and coupled up. Louis has to swallow his gag.

Louis stares at Harry with the most unimpressed look he can muster. "What?" he asks.

Harry smiles sheepishly and shrugs. "You kind of zoned out there for a mo, Lou. Are you alright?"

Louis fights the urge to sneer at him because obviously _he's not okay, Harry and maybe if you stopped cooing over Ollie for one minute you'd notice._ But he keeps his cool and shrugs back at him, blinking monotonously if that is at all possible. "I'm fine."

He knows that Harry's going to be able to tell that something is off with him. That's fortunately and unfortunately what happens after approximately fourteen years of solid friendship- _best_ friendship. He's going to get a talk later and absolutely come to regret the way he's not bothering to cover up his misery in fake laughter and jokes like he can usually do.

But that wouldn't help either, really, since Harry's come to know the difference between one of his real smiles and fake ones somehow. His confidence in his acting abilities has taken quite the hit.

"You don't seem fine," Harry presses, leaning a bit closer over the table separating their sides of the booth.

That just serves to make Louis' nose twitch in anger because Harry and Louis usually sit in this exact booth, but on the _same_ side. It's _their_ booth and now Ollie's in it and Harry doesn't seem to have an issue with ruining their HarryandLouis sanctuary.

Louis peaks one eyebrow at him and takes a long sip from his milkshake. Ollie shifts uncomfortably and Harry's eyebrows furrow in concern. It's all just making Louis even more irritated. "Well, I _said_ I was fine. Therefore I am fine."

Harry's got these wide green eyes trained on him like his wellbeing and level of happiness is the most important thing to him at the moment. But that's obviously a lie because that lanky limb is still draped all over that damn Ollie. "Louis," he starts.

"Enough about me," Louis interrupts loudly, the most animated he's been all evening, slapping his hand on the table and gesturing to Ollie with a slightly manic smile. "Let's hear more about Oliver."

"It's Ollie," both Harry and Ollie cut in at the same time and this time Louis can't hold back the eye roll.

"Of course it is," he mutters under his breath. His eyes are trained on the napkin he's busy ripping to shreds so as not to catch the apologetic look Harry's probably giving his precious Ollie then. "Uh," Louis clears his throat. "I'm actually not feeling too well. I think I might walk home."

He stands up and pulls his jacket over his shoulders, sparing a brief wave to the pair in the booth. Harry stands up and Louis most certainly does not get a sick sense of pleasure in his gut when Harry offers to cut the date short and give him a ride home. "Don't be dense, Haz. I live a couple of minutes away. Stay with Oliver." With that, he throws a couple of bills down on the table to cover his milkshake and then huffs away.

The cold wintery air hits him like a brick wall when he pushes through the door and out onto the street, stopping for a moment to collect his thoughts. He looks back through the glass and purses his lips when he catches a glance of Harry and Ollie murmuring quietly to each other.

Probably about how crazy Harry's best friend is.

Louis starts his walk home and tries hard not to wallow in self pity, though the opportunity is just too great not to take when life has shoved him into an angsty, cliche teen drama. Of course he's become that teenager who's gone and fallen in love with his best friend- his ungodly attractive, unbearably sweet, and unattainable best friend. So sue him if he's a bit bitter towards bloody Ollie/Oliver/Whatever his name is.

The best part of this whole situation is that Louis had just built himself up to that place where he was ready to come clean and lay it all on the line in a spectacularly romantic confession three weeks ago.

Louis had choked out that he needed to tell something to Harry, palms sweaty and heart beating like a drum in his ears. Harry had told him that he needed to tell him something as well and smiled that secret smile that Louis can look back on now and point out how dumb he was not to know what was coming.

"You first," Louis told him and let Harry shyly confess that he had been asked on a date by the new boy in their grade. He can remember that god awful overwhelming feeling of dread and humiliation that had swept through his veins like an ice cold wave and the way his eyes had stung and how the fluorescent lights above became too bright.

It got worse when Harry told him that _I said yes, Lou! And he's really cute and I'm really happy about this._ Louis just nodded, eyes focusing in and out on Harry's rosy cheeks and the way he was ducking his chin down to his chest and twiddling his fingers together.

Louis had sucked it up and gave him a wide smile, hugging the tall boy tightly in faux excitement. "Good, H. I'm so happy for you."

And of course having to listen to Harry recount every single detail of every text message conversation and every date wasn't enough torture. No, Ollie also insisted that he just had to meet this famous best mate of Harry's that was a part of every silly story he ever told.

In all honesty, Louis feels a tad guilty that he's ruined the night for Harry, but those feelings are minuscule compared to the self pity and heartbreak raging inside.

His phone is already vibrating in his pocket, no doubt with calls and texts from Harry, and Louis shuts down the device with a sigh as he pushes through his front door and stomps up the stairs to his bedroom to hide under the covers and never come out for the rest of his life.

-*-*-*-*-

His plan to waste away into nothingness, shut away up in his room, goes down in flames when Niall barges through the door bright and early the next morning, ripping the comforter from his body and obliterating the warm cocoon he had made for himself.

"The fuck," Louis spits out angrily and kicks his feet out in hopes to cause Niall any fraction of the misery he feels in that moment.

"Mornin', Louis! It's time to get up," Niall chirps back, entirely unfazed by the glare Louis was shooting at him. "Don't be such a sour puss just cause you and Harry had a spat.

"Shut the fuck up, Niall. You don't know anything," Louis swears and pulls the blankets back up over his head. "Leave."

Niall just flops down on the bed beside Louis and shakes his head. "Harry's worried y'know. What type of twat turns off his phone? What'd you do this time, Lou?" His voice is too cheery for the time of day and Louis growls from his place under the blanket.

"How do you know it wasn't Harry who did something? Why is it always me?"

"Uhh, I don't know, maybe cause you're in love with the dude and it makes you all psycho. I just don't get why you don't tell him. Like, it'd fix everything," Niall shrugs and Louis pops his head out indignantly. Niall doesn't understand _anything_.

"You actually do not understand how much I can not do that," Louis sputters, shaking his head. "That's the worst idea I've ever heard and I've been friends with Harry for my whole life. You should be ashamed."

"I'm telling you, mate, he'd feel the same. You'd be surprised." Louis sometimes wishes he was more like Niall and could be so optimistic about life. He wishes he could be so naive and really, truly, honestly believe that if he were to go to Harry's house right now (which is appropriately just down the street) and give him a great speech about their everlasting love, Harry would swoon and forget about stupid Ollie.

But he had hoped that three weeks ago and he has already learned his lesson. Niall's just being dumb now.

"He has _Ollie_ , Niall. Leave it alone."

Niall pulls the blanket down an inch more and shakes his head. "Nope. Not until you talk to the guy."

"Niall."

"Louis.

" _Niall_."

" _Louis_."

Louis narrows his eyes at Niall and sets his lips in a thin line, but Niall doesn't budge. " _Fine_ , I'll talk to Harry. And I'll get rejected and then you can laugh at me. It's fine, whatever. You're a shit friend, but it's fine." He has absolutely no intention whatsoever to talk to Harry about any of his feelings from now until the end of forever, but the lie seems to appease Niall who smiles widely and bounces up from the bed.

"Good. I've got to get to work, but do me a favor and turn on your phone."

Louis watches from his spot on the bed as Niall strolls out of his room as quick as he had appeared and then glances over to where his phone sits quietly on the bedside table. He squints his eyes, turning the phone into a blurry blob and shakes his head.

Maybe later. He's already had it with today so that can wait for a while.

-*-*-*-*-

Avoiding Harry for the rest of the weekend goes by shockingly smoothly. Mostly because they went out Saturday night so he only had to ignore him Sunday and because he ended up leaving his phone off and not venturing outside lest Harry was taking out the trash or driving by.

He's not exactly sure how today is supposed to go, he realizes as he twists the combination to his locker slowly, but he knows it's going to be near impossible to get away without Harry seeing him or stopping him. Harry not only knows where his locker is, but he's also taken it upon himself to memorize his classes and his lunch schedule which would be creepy if Louis hadn't done the same with Harry's schedule.

Basically he can be waiting around any corner throughout the day, ready to pounce on Louis like a hungry lion and he feels like he's in a horror movie.

Louis makes it to second period of the day before turning down another hallway and running into the one and only Harry Styles. He calculates the distance between him and the classroom door and contemplates what mind blowing ninja move he'd have to pull off to escape Harry's clutches before Harry gets a hand around his wrist and is dragging him off to a quieter corner.

"I've got class," Louis protests half heartedly, not able to meet Harry's eyes for fear of what they might be holding.

"This'll only take a moment," Harry tells him and crowds him against the wall. "You've been avoiding me." His voice is soft and confused and Louis can't discern any trace of anger or disappointment mixed in like he'd originally thought there would be.

"I was busy," Louis shrugs, shifting the books in his arms from one to the other nervously.

"Bullshit." Louis finally looks up and meets Harry's frown with his own, his heart skipping a beat in his chest at their face's proximity to each other. "Why are you lying to me?"

And because Louis is entirely too stubborn for his own good, he shakes his head and tilts his head innocently. "How do you know I'm lying to you?"

"Lou, I know why you're mad," Harry says all knowingly, ignoring the question, and Louis can honest to god feel his stomach drop right out of his toes. Every muscle in his body tenses up so much that Louis thinks he might snap in half and every sense he has is suddenly a thousand times more aware, ears perked up and eyes wide.

He's trying to keep his expression neutral as he asks, "What?"

"You're jealous," Harry says with a smile and what the fuck. Louis knows that there's no way that his expression stayed the same after that one, knows that the crash of hurt that pooled inside flickered across his face too. Because if Harry _knows_ then why is he _smiling_ like this is all some big game?

Louis gapes at him and prays that his lip isn't as wobbly as his knees feel.

He knows for a fact that he made a face or flinched or did something that gave him away when Harry's eyes widen and he shakes his head, patting at Louis' hair and arms in apology. "Lou, no I didn't mean it. It's okay that you're jealous. I would be too."

Louis smacks the hands away and wraps his arms around his stomach, feeling way too open and exposed for this conversation to be taking place. "What?" is all he can manage. He's not sure if his brain is short circuiting or not, but something doesn't add up about this. Louis' not quite understanding.

"Just because I've got a boyfriend doesn't mean I'm going to forget about my best friend, Louis. You're still my number one boy, okay? You don't have to worry about him taking me away from you or whatever you've got going through your head. I'll always make time for you," Harry tells him and, bless him, looks so sincere and genuinely proud of himself for this that Louis could punch him.

Of course Harry thinks he's worried about being replaced as a best friend. As a mate. So basically he's being friend zoned once again and Louis drops his eyes down to the dirty tile he's standing on.

"Ollie isn't holding Saturday night against you, either. He understands," Harry tells him cheerily, like he's giving him good news and basically his life just sucks.

"Yeah," Louis nods. Harry pulls him into a tight hug, laying his head against the top of Louis' and murmuring that he loves him so much. Louis just stands still with his books as a barrier between their chests and waits patiently until he's released. "Can I go to class now?"

There are times when he needs Harry to say those three words to him more than he needs the air he breathes, but evidently this is not one of those times.

Harry laughs and nods, smacking him soundly on the bottom when he pushes passed Harry and moves forward to the classroom door. It's all a joke to him and Louis just wants to cry.

-*-*-*-*-

Later that day, after five more grueling hours of running into Harry and Ollie in the hallways and Harry smiling happily at him, Louis' finally walking out the front doors and starting his trek home.

Usually he gets a ride home with Harry, but after he had found out that Ollie and Harry were planning on going out for ice cream after school, Louis had lied to him and told him that he needed to stay after for something. Who even gets ice cream during winter time? Losers.

He's mentally planning out a night of homework, loneliness, and lots of tea and sleep when someone shouts his name behind him. "Louis! Why're you walking home?" Niall asks him when he catches up with him.

Louis just shrugs and pushes his hands farther down into his pockets. He forgot his mittens at home this morning since he was too preoccupied with spying on Harry out the window.

"Did you talk to Harry yet?" Niall prompts again and Louis nods his head. "And what did he say?"

Louis lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He really, _really_ doesn't want to have this conversation right now. "It's not going to work out Niall."

"He said that?" Niall asks, face screwed up in shock and confusion. Oh, Niall, Louis thinks. Sweet, sweet Niall.

"Yep," Louis answers shortly. Maybe Harry didn't say that exactly, but that's what he meant.

Niall stops walking and shakes his head. "No, I refuse to believe it! You told Harry that you loved him and he didn't feel the same? Impossible." The confidence in which Niall is saying this all with kind of makes Louis want to cry again because _if only_.

He just keeps walking and shrugs, refusing to stop or look behind him and see the pity in Niall's eyes. "I told you," he laughs weakly and the sound comes out mangled and wrong. "Now will you finally drop it. I'd really like if we could all just forget about this."

Niall jogs a couple of paces to catch up to Louis again and claps him on the shoulder. "Sure, mate," he nods. Louis' reminded why he loves Niall a couple of minutes later when the boy starts chattering on about something funny that happened to him during science class today as if nothing happened out of the ordinary just moments prior.

But Louis can tell in the way that he hugs him just a little longer and just a little harder when he drops him off at home that Niall knows how upset he truly is about this all.

-*-*-*-*-

Everything goes back to normal after that.

Normal as in Ollie and Harry carry on obliviously and disgustingly, Louis pines pathetically and miserably, and Niall hugs Louis tight enough that he thinks he's starting to get bruises.

Except, every time that Niall hugs Louis and coos nonsense into his hair, Harry frowns at the pair. Louis knows it's because he's upset that there's something Niall knows Louis is upset about that he hasn't gone to Harry about, but that just makes Ollie coo over his frowning boyfriend. And that makes Niall hug Louis tighter, so really it's just a vicious cycle.

More often than not, Louis walks home with Niall rather than riding in a car home with Ollie and Harry. He makes it his number one priority to never be caught alone with Ollie and Harry again and surprisingly succeeds in that- probably because Harry's not too keen on letting the diner situation happen again.

Louis lives for the little moments when it's just HarryandLouis again. Like when Louis decides to stop by Harry's and demand he cook him dinner while his mum is out or when Harry drops in to watch reruns of One Tree Hill with Louis even if he swears to God that he hates that show.

Each time he's left with an even bigger hole in his chest where his heart used to be before he gave it to Harry, but he can't ever refuse to see him. There are many a times when he has to bite his lips together to keep those three short words from slipping out and tearing apart everything they have going for them.

Like when Harry's dancing around his kitchen, banging pots together and crooning out ridiculous, made up lyrics straight to Louis who is laughing so hard that he thinks he might get abs. Or when Louis' carrying in the groceries and Harry runs out of his house, half dressed, to help with an easy smile and warm eyes. And especially when Louis and Harry and pressed tightly together to make room for both of their bodies on the little couch, Harry's feet dangling off the end and Louis teetering on the edge of consciousness, head pillowed against Harry's chest with fingers raking through his hair.

Then there are the times when Harry tells him he looks beautiful today or that he's his favorite person in the whole world and Louis wants to respond with _I love you so much sometimes that I can hardly breathe._

It's one of those moments right now, actually, as Louis sits on Harry's bed and watches as a shirtless Harry sifts through his closet, complaining about how he's not got anything to wear. Which is ridiculous because even if the kid chooses to wear a rotation of six different shirts, his closet is fully stocked.

Louis' too distracted to tell him that, though. The way the muscles are moving in Harry's back is far more interesting than his fashion crisis. "Lou _is_ , help _meee_." And maybe it's a good thing that Harry's gone and let Louis fall in love by himself because what are the perks to dating an oversized child? He's sure there aren't many.

"Harry, you look great in anything. Just throw on something and you'll be fine."

Harry obviously doesn't agree with that because he groans loudly and throws himself down across the bed in front of Louis, flopping an arm across his eyes and giving Louis a full view of his tattoos. "Stop trying to chat me up and tell me what to wear."

Louis laughs and leans forward so his face is directly above Harry's. "I'm serious, H. I don't think I've ever seen you wear something that has made you look less than amazing." He's dead serious, but Harry just rolls his eyes and pulls Louis down to his chest.

Louis settles down against his ribs and presses a smile into the bare skin underneath him, wondering how hard he'd have to press to leave an indent of himself permanently. The room is quiet save for their breathing and the soft music playing from Harry's speakers that Louis can identify as The Vaccines after years of exposure to his endless iTunes library.

"I wish I could stay here all night," Harry breathes and Louis sneaks a peek up at his face to see a content smile and closed eyes. His heart almost lurches from his chest, those little words dancing behind his teeth.

Louis hides his dopy look against Harry's chest and asks simply, "So why don't you? Stay home and hang out with me."

Harry hums and Louis can feel the vibration of it against his lips, long fingers pushing his hair back from his forehead. "I wish," he says wistfully.

"Where are you even going anyway?" Louis asks almost sleepily. It's only around five o'clock on a Thursday night, but Louis is warm and comfortable and wrapped up in the boy that he's completely gone for.

It's a rude awakening when Harry stretches his arms far above his head and yawns out a, "M'taking Ollie out t'night." And just like that, the atmosphere is broken and Louis is pushing himself away from Harry.

"Oh, well. Can't miss that, can you?" Louis slides to the edge of the bed to stand up and walks over to the closet, thankful for the way he's turned away from Harry so he has that extra moment to compose his face. "Honestly, Haz. I wasn't lying when I told you that you'd look great in anything."

He can hear and feel it when Harry gets off the bed himself and hovers behind Louis, watching curiously as to what he's picking out. Louis brushes his fingers over the different colors and patterns, smiling fondly at some of them and the memories they hold, before pulling out one of his gray blazers that he's always loved on Harry.

"Wear this. You can put a white button up underneath and a pair of your black jeans and you'll still be the best dressed wherever you go, I promise." Louis gently hands the hanger to Harry and returns to his spot on the bed, waiting for Harry to get dressed and model the final product.

He'll look great, Louis knows that already.

"How do I look?" Harry asks after a couple of minutes, walking in with his hands raised in question. He looks beautiful like Louis had predicted, ready to walk on a runway and outshine any professional model out there. Harry clicks the heels of his leather boots together nervously and Louis smiles reassuringly at him, getting off the bed once again.

There's a couple of seconds where Louis allows himself to look Harry up and down and imagine that this was their date that he was getting ready for and Harry was all excited about going out with Louis himself. But he doesn't dwell as that only leads to a harsher wake up call when he remembers that he'll never have that.

"Told you so," Louis tells him and Harry breaks out into a brilliant smile that helps to clear away the dread previously pooling in his chest.

"Thanks, babe," Harry winks. "I'd be lost without you."

Louis nods and accepts the hug he's given, trying to push the screaming in his mind that he just dressed the unrequited love of his life to go on a date with somebody who isn't him. Why is this his life?

-*-*-*-*-

Louis' sitting at their normal lunch table the next day at school, rubbing his eyes with his fists and yawning loudly. He couldn't get to bed last night no matter how much he tossed and turned, but he's refusing to acknowledge that it had anything to do with anything Harry related so.

Their table is mostly empty save for Liam, Stan, and Louis who came from English together and Louis rests his cheek against his palm, eyes trained tiredly on the door where he knows Harry, Zayn, Niall, and Ollie will be meandering through anytime now.

For some reason, it's taking longer than normal for the other four to get to lunch and Louis clicks his tongue sadly down at his bagged lunch in front of him. He doesn't feel very much like eating anything right now so he pushes his sandwich onto Liam's plate and keeps his bag of crisps to give his hands something to toy with.

A chair to the side of him scrapes against the tile and Louis looks up to spot Ollie dropping down into a seat two chairs down from him. Harry is nowhere to be seen and Louis' already shredding the paper bag to pieces between his fingers.

"Hey, Louis," Ollie greets and Louis could cry, noticing that Liam and Stan are already in a deep conversation about a program that Louis doesn't watch. He vows right then and there to go home and watch every single episode on Netflix if it means Ollie will leave him alone, but luck is never on his side. "How was your day?"

"Good," Louis responds, balling up the shreds into little projectiles he can aim at Ollie's big head. "Where's Harry?"

"They had to stay behind for something, I dunno," he shrugs. "You look wrecked, mate. Late night?"

Louis covers up the grimace with a hand and nods. "Yeah, couldn't sleep for shit. What about you?" he asks without thinking and then proceeds to dig his nails into his skin when he realizes he just gave the green light for Ollie to brag about their date.

"I had a nice night, yeah, thank you," Ollie says with this half smile and these _eyes_ that have Louis' throat closing up. He might be going crazy, but Louis' pretty sure that's _sympathy_ on Ollie's face right now which means the kid has clued into something.

This is entirely, one hundred and ten percent not good.

Louis rips open his bag of crisps and shoves a handful in his mouth, providing an excuse for the silence that has dropped over them. When he swallows, Louis looks up at Ollie and nods carefully. "Sounds lovely. I know Harry was proper excited for your date."

Ollie smiles softly at that and nods. "Yeah, he was. Thanks for cleaning him up, by the way. He mentioned that you helped him get ready." There's that look again and Louis shakes his head vehemently.

"No, no, no. I was really happy to help. You make him happy and I love that. You guys are great together," Louis insists. "Plus, with Harry out and about I can go out myself and try to meet someone."

He doesn't know how else to reiterate the point that he's _not_ in love with Harry without kissing somebody else right now. The closest person to him is Liam and he knows his girlfriend wouldn't appreciate that at all so this'll just have to do.

"You're trying to meet someone?" Ollie asks and Louis nods a bit too quickly.

"We should all go out!" Ollie decides suddenly. Harry and Zayn appear out of nowhere then to take the remaining seats at the table and Louis let's out a thinly veiled sigh of relief.

"Go out?" Zayn asks.

"Yeah, let's go to that new place you were talking about the other day. Louis' trying to meet someone and I think it'd be perfect. We can all go together, yeah?" Ollie explains and Louis' not focused on anything but the way that Harry's staring at him now.

His eyes are clouded with confusion and his lips are set in a thin line as he tilts his head in question at Louis. Louis just shrugs and throws one of his paper balls at him, laughing weakly when it gets stuck in one of his curls.

"You're trying to meet someone?" Harry repeats. "This is news to me."

Louis shrugs again, balling up more paper to throw at him.

"Why do you need to meet someone?"

"Why did you need to meet someone, H?" Louis huffs, losing interest in everything and sweeping all of the paper into his hand to throw away. "It's not a big deal."

Harry holds up his palms in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just surprised you didn't tell me before this."

"Yeah, well," Louis mutters and stands up from the table to throw away the papers.

Next to the trash, Louis looks back to the table and decides to just skip out on the rest of lunch. It's not like he's going to eat anymore and he's sure as hell not going to watch Ollie and Harry whisper to each other for the next twenty minutes.

As he's turning around to leave for the doors, Louis catches Ollie's eye and sees that look there again shining through clear as day and he books it out of there faster than he's ever done in his schooling career.

The problem is, as much as Louis wants to hate Ollie and fashion a dart board with his face on it, he's actually not a bad kid. He's got a big forehead and spectacularly unspectacular hair, but he's kind and he makes Harry smile. In Louis' book, that's all that counts.

-*-*-*-*-

One week full of constant pestering from Harry about this whole 'wanting to meet someone' thing later, their little excursion out has finally arrived and Louis feels a bit ridiculous walking into a club with Zayn, Niall, Ollie and Harry.

Liam and Stan had both been busy, much to Louis' chagrin and delight- he still isn't sure if he's sad that there isn't more of a buffer between Ollie and Harry or if he's pleased at the lesser amount of people to watch him end up making a fool of himself.

He can't really take long strides in these jeans, they're _that_ tight, and he's regretting letting Niall and Zayn pick out his outfit more and more with every passing moment. Thank god his shirt's just a plain t-shirt if he ignores the outrageous scoop neck collar that displays his collarbones in a way that they're most definitely visible to the astronauts in outer space.

Once upon a time, it had been worth it to hear Harry tell him that he looked great, but that doesn't matter so much anymore when he gives the compliment while he has an arm wrapped around Ollie's waist.

Truth be told, Louis Tomlinson, the life of the party in Doncaster, wants nothing more than to change into some track pants and curl up in bed with some tea and telly. Love does crazy things to you, he guesses.

It takes about two and a half minutes for everybody to split up, all clapping Louis on the back and wishing him luck on something that he could care less about as they leave. And then he's alone in the middle of a crowded club with absolutely no idea as to what he's supposed to be doing or where he's supposed to be going.

Louis doesn't fancy knocking back any shots like he can see Niall and Zayn doing at the bar a little ways away tonight. Normally, he'd be all over that, but tonight he's not taking the risk of taking part in a round of piss drunk confessions. That would actually be the worst possible outcome of the night.

He looks the other way and is greeted with the sight of Ollie and Harry dancing together on the edge of the dance floor away from the crowd. Harry looks hot, but Ollie swaying his hips around in front of Harry makes Louis sick.

He has a couple of options, none of them particularly appealing at the moment. Louis could go sit at a table like a loner, but he'd probably end up crying out of boredom. He could go have a soda with Zayn and Niall, but then he'd probably end up giving in to the temptation of drowning his sorrows. That leaves him the dance floor and Louis sighs to himself before moping his way to the middle of the crowd.

It's not as bad once he gets going, the music loud enough to help him lose his thoughts, instead relishing in the way the beat seems to be thrumming through his bones. It helps when someone shows up behind him, gripping his hips tightly and following his movement.

Louis leans back against the sweaty chest and smiles dazedly at the face looking darkly back at him. The guy is tall and he's got big hands like Harry. But after a while, Louis can tell that his hands are just meaty rather than the long and sculpted ones he loves. He scolds himself and pushes the thoughts from his mind, pushing the hands away from his hips so he can spin around in his grip.

"M'Louis," Louis shouts into his ear in hopes of being heard over the music.

"Victor," the stranger replies in a gruff voice, rubbing his meaty hands over his back. Louis rewards him with a smile a roll of his hips.

He doesn't know how long they dance, a couple more songs at the least, before Victor is sidestepping them off of the dance floor and murmuring questions into Louis' ear about the night and flats and what not. Except Louis can't hear anymore of it because he's being yanked away by another pair of hands. "Wha-"

Harry looms over him as he glares at Victor. "You need to get out of here," he demands and Louis shakes himself out of his haze just in time to jump out of Harry's grip.

"Harry, are you serious? _You_ need to get out of here," Louis shouts, stepping back towards Victor. Yet, Victor is already backing away from Harry who looks like he's ready to start a fight and Louis is _not_ having this.

"Louis, come on. We're leaving," Harry says and tries to usher Louis away, but Louis just shakes his head again.

"No, fuck off. I'm staying." Louis turns back to the crowd and can't find his dancing partner anywhere. He can feel his anger balling up in the tips of his fingers and he wheels around to stare Harry down. "What is your issue?!"

Harry looks like he's about to say something, but Louis shoves passed him and stomps his way out of the club. Niall and Zayn catch sight of Louis' exit and Harry scrambling after him and follow as well, Ollie trailing somewhere behind them.

The fresh air doesn't help to calm Louis down at all. The sweat in his hair and on his skin is cooling rapidly to an icy cold and the rest of the gang are all approaching cautiously, curiously. Louis huffs out a puff of visible breath and turns back towards Harry. "I'm so pissed at you right now."

"You're better than that, Louis. Don't let some random bloke take you home," Harry tells him seriously, peering down at him with heated eyes narrowed under furrowed angry brows. His hand is burning hot around his wrist and Louis yanks it away furiously.

"Maybe I'm not," Louis bites out, throwing his hands up in the air. "I wanted to go home with him! Get off your high horse, you pretentious tosser. You don't know anything!" He knows he's yelling now, causing a scene, and he can feel Niall's and Zayn's eyes on them, but he makes no move to stop.

Harry just closes his eyes and shakes his head like he doesn't want to hear what Louis is telling him. Louis wants to rip out his pretty curls and shove them down his throat. "Don't say that. He wasn't good enough for you."

"Who are you to judge what's good enough for me?!" Louis squawks incredulously, face red. "If I wanted to slag around then I _will_ and you have absolutely no say and I swear to god, if you ever pull that again I will not hesitate to punch you in face."

Harry stands up straighter and looks straight over Louis' head and Louis knows he's probably looking around for Ollie. There's no words to describe the amount of frustration that wells up inside of him at that and he stomps his foot against the concrete just like a toddler.

"Harry Styles, you're such an asshole!" Louis cries out, fisting his hands through his hair and ignoring the wetness he feels pooling in his eyes. "This isn't _fair_!"

Harry looks back down at Louis and he's got this look on. Like Louis' some child that he has to take care of and protect because he's just silly little Louis who's akin to his little brother. Like Louis' causing a scene and needs to be taken home. "Calm down," Harry says and Louis uses all his strength to push Harry away from him.

Harry stumbles back a few steps and Zayn and Niall and Ollie all rush forward, but Louis twists out of everybody's hands. He points a finger at Harry and ignores the wobble his lower lip is doing. " _Don't_ tell me to calm down. Don't ever touch me again. Fuck you, you giant prick. And fuck Ollie too."

"Louis-" somebody cuts in, he doesn't know who nor does he care.

Louis shakes his head and steps closer to Harry. "I will sleep with every person in Doncaster if I see fit and you have no say in it, do you understand? Go shag Oliver and leave me the hell alone."

His dramatic exit would have been legendary, would have been talked about for ages and passed on for generations, if Louis had not turned around and stumbled into another drunken club goer hobbling down the sidewalk.

"Louis!" Harry shouts behind him and Louis flips him the bird and hails a cab, sparing one last icy glance to him before sliding in and slamming the door shut behind him.

They've never fought like that before in their life, Louis realizes and he knows what that means. This isn't just a simple spat over which TV program to watch or a little bickering that they forget about after five minutes.

It's late, though, and he's tired and his eyes sting and he really just wants to curl up in bed and pretend that this shit show never happened. So he leans his forehead against the cold glass and works to quiet the madness that is running rampant in his thoughts.

-*-*-*-*-

When Louis wakes up the next morning- or really, the next afternoon, he does so to approximately a million and one texts and missed calls flashing on his phone. Most of them are from Niall and say things like

_"Louis are you ok mate?_

_Im so sorry i didnt know_

_youre such a fuckin liar but im sorry i thought you told him like you said you did_

_did you make it home ok?_

_sorry again louis"_

which gives him a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. And then there are two from Harry saying

" _Are you home, Louis? Did you make it home alright? xx_

_I'm coming over soon. I hope you're awake."_

The last text, Louis notices, was sent only a couple of minutes ago and he squeezes his eyes closed and lets out a long groan. At the most it takes Harry a minute to make the journey from his house to Louis' which means he could show up any second now.

Briefly, he contemplates how long it would take to drown himself in the bathtub.

Louis hears the front door open and it takes a split second more before he jumps into action, flinging the covers off and running out of his room and down the hallway. The hope is to somehow slip out of the house without Harry noticing and then hitchhike his way to Australia or somewhere sunny.

He creeps down the hall, pressing himself flat against the wall next to the corner that leads to the staircase and holds his breath as he slowly looks around the edge. But of course, because he is Louis Tomlinson and he has the worst luck in the world, Harry is right there and spots him immediately, smiling goofily at him. "Trying to run away, huh?"

Louis freezes and stays hidden except for a small part of his face, just staring at Harry. He's not sure what's supposed to happen now, not sure what Niall's texts were about and what Harry knows now.

Harry may be smiling, but Louis' almost positive that he's come to friendship break up with him over last night. Or maybe ask him politely to stop being in love with him. Either one.

Harry continues the rest of the way up the stairs before stopping on the one right before the landing. This way he's about Louis' height and he rocks on his heels uncertainly. "Are you going to come out?"

"I'd rather not," Louis murmurs against the wall. Every nerve in his body is thrumming, anticipating the worst. "Why are you here?"

Harry leans against the railing on the wall that Louis is peeking out behind and shoves his hands in the pockets of his peacoat that Louis' loves on him so much. It makes him look drop dead gorgeous, but he can't really afford those thoughts right now. "Niall told me something last night after you left and I want to know if it's true or not."

Louis stays quiet, the one blue eye visible to Harry blinking in question. "Because surely it wouldn't be true. I fancy you my best mate and I told Niall that if something like _that_ were to ever be true then you'd of told me."

"What did he tell you?" Louis has a feeling that he knows what Niall let slip, but he's decided to cross all his fingers and toes and hope for the best. Maybe just this once he'll be shown mercy.

Louis feels a bit ridiculous standing behind the wall like this, but he figures that it's better than standing out in the open in front of Harry for this conversation. At least if he ends up in tears he can hide.

"Well, you see. Funnily enough, Niall started shouting after you left about how I was an insensitive twat and that I've already played with your feelings enough. He was quite passionate, right, and naturally I had no idea what he was on about. So I asked him and this is the best part," Harry starts and Louis wishes the ground would swallow him up right now.

"I can imagine," he says dully, eyes flickering down to the carpet he's digging his toes into.

"He told me that you loved me. Niall said that you were in _love_ with me, Louis. And he said that you told him that you had told me and that I had _rejected_ you." Harry's voice is thick and full of something that Louis can't quite place so he looks up at him, biting on his thumbnail worriedly, and sidesteps a little to the left so half of his body can be seen.

Louis shrugs and hopes the fiery hot embarrassment isn't showing over his cheeks and ears and neck. "But I knew that wasn't true," Harry starts again, stepping up the final step and crowding into Louis' space. "D'you want to know how I knew that wasn't true?"

Louis shrugs again, too wired up to do anything but a simple jerk of his shoulders. "Because I never told you that," he guesses, his voice coming out in nothing more than a mere whisper. This has got to be the worst moment in his entire life.

"No, babe," Harry shakes his head and gently pulls the hand away from his mouth, cradling it in between his two hands instead. Sometimes he's shocked by the stark difference in size of their palms, his little fists so tiny against Harry's spidery fingers. "I knew that wasn't true because I knew that there was no way that I would've rejected you if you had told me that you loved me."

Louis stills for a moment, trying to process and compute what Harry just said, and then jolts, pulling his hand back to his own chest and taking a step back. "W-what? I don't- what?"

"I told Niall that if you had told me you loved me, I would have told you that I love you too, you liar." Harry takes another step forward and Louis takes another step back, holding out his hands in front of him and shaking his head.

"But Oliver," Louis chokes out. There's no way that this is actually happening which in retrospect is a tad depressing. Louis' gotten to the point where he's waiting for the other shoe to drop rather than jumping into Harry's arms.

"Is out of the picture. He never held a candle to you, anyway. It was kind of always you and I'm really sorry that you ever doubted that, Louis. I wish you would've told me instead of waiting this long."

Louis tugs at the hem of his sweater and chews on the inside of his cheek, studying Harry's expression. "You really love me? Seriously?"

The smile that Harry gives him is unlike anything he's ever seen before in his life, unlike the one he used to give Ollie that Louis would wish was focused on him, and it's easily the most beautiful thing in the world. "Seriously. I love you so much. Since I was fourteen, I think."

Four years, Louis' brain provides incredulously and his entire chest deflates as he exhales a whoosh of breath. "I can't believe you let me pine for four years, you insufferable-"

The rest of his complaints are muffled against Harry's lips as he pulls Louis up into their first kiss, smiling when Louis turns pliant in his hands.

"Say it again. Just to make sure," Louis says, turning his lips to the side so Harry ends up laying another kiss against his cheek.

"I love you," Harry laughs into his skin, tracing over the words with small pecks. "I'm in love with you."

His heart may just burst. Louis hooks his arms around Harry's neck and presses their bodies closer together. "I'm so in love with you, it's crazy," he confesses giddily, finally turning back into the kiss with a toothy smile.

So, yeah, maybe Louis' life is a lot like one of those cliche, unlucky in love, angsty teenage dramas, but at least he got his cliche happy ending out of it. That's all that counts.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this, edited this, and posted it all under 24 hours and I think my brain is a bit fried now whoops. But this was written to work through the writers block that i've had for two months now so it's not supposed to be amazing or anything. Also, this isn't beta'd so ignore all mistakes and what not and check out I Always Knew by The Vaccines which is a rad tune. 
> 
> [This is my tumblr.](http://www.fackinglouis.tumblr.com)


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